Noel
by Chi Yagami
Summary: It's not the gift, but the thought that counts. A classic Christmas tale in Ikarishipping style. Dawn x Paul.


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Five dollars and sixty-three cents.

That's all she would have left after paying for rent and groceries. Dawn frowned at the wrinkled bills and rusty coins in her hand. She counted again: still five dollars and sixty-three cents.

She folded the three bills carefully around the change and tucked the money safely into her wallet. Tugging her shawl further over her shoulders, she sat on her worn couch and shivered. The winter this year was exceptionally cold, and that was the main reason she didn't have much money left. The landlord had increased December's rent to cover for the extra heating costs; many tenants were using their heaters throughout the night and even some during the daytime. While Dawn did use her heater at night, she might have been willing to freeze if it meant not paying the extra hundred on her rent. Unfortunately the increase was added to the bill whether she wanted it or not; so while she did enjoy not freezing at night, she was left with next to nothing for Christmas spending money.

She put her head between her hands and groaned. Five dollars would buy a small box of chocolates or, well, actually she didn't really know what else. This was her first year living on her own, and Dawn had never had to worry about money before. Oh why hadn't she bought Christmas gifts back in August, back when the rent was normal and the tips had been flowing? No one sat outside this time of year or lingered long after their food was gone. It was bad enough that her restaurant didn't serve coffee, but then the heating had gone out too. Employee hours were cut so that the owner could replace the heater. So not only had the rent increased, but her income was cut. All of her wages and tips went straight to rent, and anything leftover was used for food. She had five dollars and sixty-three cents left only because she had skipped the milk and bread and bought extra ramen instead.

Her stomach growled at the thought of food. She chastised herself, reminding her stomach that she had eaten several hours ago; she couldn't eat now or she would be hungry again later. She had to wait until six. Then dinner would be here.

Dawn ran her fingers through her long hair. She had let it grow out over the years, and now it was almost to her waist. She idly rubbed a few blue strands between her fingers. Greasy. She needed to shower soon; it was almost four and Paul would be here at six.

"Paul, what am I supposed to get you for Christmas?" she moaned. She flopped back onto the couch and blew her bangs out of her face.

She had to get him something special, something meaningful. Something worth more than five dollars and sixty-three cents. They had been dating for almost two years. Well, Dawn supposed it was called "dating"; they never used any labels. Paul had met some of her friends but somehow she had never had to use the word _boyfriend_. If he even was her boyfriend. She wondered how Paul labeled their relationship in his mind. Dating? Friends with benefits? Still, Paul had become very special to her and he deserved a special gift.

"Sorry, Mom," she whispered. "You'll have to settle for a card this year."

Her mother would have her suspicions, but Dawn would never outright reveal anything about her current living situation. If her mother found out she was living in a rat hole flat in a seedy part of the city, she would hop on the next flight and force Dawn to move back home. Her mother had allowed her to move across the country for college on the conditions that: her mother would pay for tuition, Dawn would pay for room and board, and she had to call her mother twice a week to let her know everything was all right. She would of course repay her mother the tuition money later, after securing a career job, but Dawn had to hold her own on her apartment or risk moving back home. She would have to buy a really nice card. Which left about three or four dollars for Paul.

She wasted another forty minutes lying on the couch, probing her brain for affordable gift ideas, but nothing really came to mind. Paul didn't have much money either, and he never used expensive things, but Dawn really wanted to get him something _nice_. Something that didn't say, You know I'm poor and I know you're poor so here's a crappy Christmas gift.

Finally ending her thoughts with a frustrated groan, Dawn got off the couch and got into the shower. She combed conditioner into her hair slowly, liking the way it felt. Paul liked her hair too. He never said anything, but he always took his time running his fingers through it or tugging it playfully. Dawn had always thought her hair was her best feature, and she wondered if Paul thought so too.

He had nice hair too, but personally she thought Paul's best feature was his eyes. To most people, they came off as cold and uncaring, but Dawn loved their stormy color. He never let her stare too long though; he would always ruin the moment by turning away, embarrassed. He wasn't comfortable with her talking about his eyes.

She didn't bother blow-drying her hair afterwards. Though the heat would have been nice, Paul liked the damp hair look for some odd reason. She had the heater on anyway; she'd warm up soon enough. She glanced at the clock: six ten. She'd taken an extra long shower, and Paul was running late. Probably another large shipment again, she thought. He had been working a lot of overtime lately, and Dawn rarely got to see him for more than a few hours.

The exception was Christmas Day. They would both be off and have the whole day to spend together.

She had just tugged one of Paul's old shirts over her head when she heard the door unlock. Not even bothering to put on pants, Dawn rushed out of her bedroom to find Paul staggering through the door with his backpack and a bag of Chinese takeout.

"Paul!" she squealed. She didn't even let him close the door before she jumped up and wrapped her arms around him. He smelled like sawdust and copper, but she also caught the remnants of his spicy deodorant.

He grabbed her leg to keep her from falling back, and Dawn shrieked. "Eek, your hands are cold!"

"You're the one without pants on," he reminded her, smirking.

She wasted no time in wiping that smirk off his face with her lips.

"Can't even let me through the door, can you?" he grumbled against her, but not without a smile. "So troublesome. Let me at least put down the food."

She closed the door while he went into the kitchen area and deposited their dinner onto the table; he also put his backpack on the floor, with a thud.

"I've got a lot of chemistry homework," he explained, sounding tired. It must have been a long day at the store.

"Do you want to shower?"

"If I can, that'd be great."

While Paul freshened up, Dawn worked on getting the table cleared off. She had finished all of her homework earlier but hadn't bothered to clean it up. And the Chinese food smelled incredibly good. He'd gotten her favorite, Mongolian Chicken.

She went into her bedroom for some pants and found Paul's clothes thrown across the floor, wet with snow. "I have a laundry basket for a reason," she huffed. She glared at the closed bathroom door but nonetheless gathered his damp garments. Something fell out of his pants pocket and rolled under her dresser.

She was lying on the ground with her arm extended under the dresser when Paul came out of the bathroom. "What are you doing?" he asked in an amused tone.

"Retrieving your… whatever this is that fell out of your pocket. And could you stop leaving your wet clothes on the carpet?"

"Fell out of my pocket?" he repeated. "Must be my watch."

Paul's watch was the only family heirloom he had directly inherited. Most of his clothes and furniture had belonged to Reggie at one point. He still lived with his older brother, even though they didn't like each other too much, for monetary reasons. And so while most of Paul's belongings were hand-me-downs from his brother, his watch was the only thing he had from his father. Dawn had never met his parents; they had both died when Paul was very young. The watch didn't work anymore, but Paul never went anywhere without it.

"Why was it in your pocket?"

Paul dried his hair with a hand towel and sat on the bed. "The strap broke while I was unloading some boxes from the truck. I had nowhere else to put it."

"Oh no, that's awful. Is there anyway to fix it?" she asked, her fingertips brushing the edge of metal. Just a bit more…

"No, because I lost the strap; it fell into a gutter hole. I was lucky the watch itself landed on the pavement."

Her hand closed around the small device and she extracted herself from the floor. He wouldn't admit it, but she could tell he was upset. The strap had been a part of the watch; in a sense it was irreplaceable.

A new strap! What a perfect Christmas present idea!

But the idea was crushed quickly: quality watch straps ran at least twenty dollars. She could never afford it.

"Hey, what's that look for?" Paul asked suddenly, noticing her frown. "It's just a watch; don't worry about it."

Dawn glanced down at the clock in her hand. It was beautifully crafted, with a large face and gold band. It had belonged to his grandfather at one point. It was possibly his most treasured possession.

"Come here," Paul said. A light command, possibly a request.

She put the watch carefully on the dresser and went over to the bed, standing in front of him, their knees touching. Paul took her hands in his and tugged, pulling her down on top of him.

"What about dinner?"

"It can wait."

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Paul woke to the sound of an annoying alarm clock. Was it really six in the morning already? He tugged the blankets up over his face; he was not ready to get out of bed yet.

Not that he could.

Dawn's arm was wrapped securely around his middle, her head resting peacefully on his chest. How could he go to work if it meant ruining this moment? He tugged her closer and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered. He gently removed her arm and lifted her head, swiftly swapping his body for a large pillow. She groaned, apparently awake.

"Do you _have_ to go?" she asked, catching his hand. He ran his thumb over her palm.

"Unfortunately. I have to be there at seven."

"I can't believe they're making you work on Christmas Eve," Dawn griped, finally letting go of hand. "Do they not realize that I am going to be home alone all Christmas Eve?"

Paul began to move around the room, looking for his clothes. He hadn't at all been paying attention to where they had come off last night. "Well, at least I have tomorrow off. I swear, tomorrow I'm all yours."

Boxers, check. Pants, check. Shirt, check. Socks…?

"Probably still in the hamper; I only washed your uniform. There's a fresh pair in your drawer though, I think."

After tying his shoes, he remembered his watch and grabbed it from the dresser.

"Come here," Dawn said. Definitely a command.

"You don't want me to be late—"

He was cut off when Dawn yanked him down by the collar for a lengthy kiss goodbye. How did she always taste so good?

"I'll be back around eight tonight," he told her, grabbing his keys. He didn't bother with his backpack; no class today.

"Hurry back."

"You know I will."

Working on Christmas Eve really did not make it feel like Christmas Eve. Throughout the day, Paul kept forgetting that tomorrow was, in fact, Christmas. It had been December for three weeks already, but somehow the holiday had still managed to sneak up on him. He vaguely wondering if Reggie had finished his Christmas shopping (he always made such a big fuss over it).

Shit. Christmas shopping.

He still didn't have a gift for Dawn! And it was already Christmas Eve… He would have to go shopping during his lunch hour; all the stores would be closed by the time he got off work. As soon as his boss gave him the ok, Paul clocked out and raced out of the hardware store.

Where was he going? What was he _buying_? He rummaged through his pockets, not bothering to check his wallet (it was always bone-dry).

Two pennies. A ball of lint. A condom…!

Paul quickly discarded the offensive item, not wanting to guess how long it had been there since he couldn't recall ever putting it there in the first place.

He also threw away the lint, which left him with the two pennies. Two small, measly copper coins. That was all the money he had to buy Dawn a Christmas present. He couldn't even afford a cheap card.

Stuffing the pennies back into his pocket, he felt around for his watch. Five past noon. He had until one o'clock to figure out what he was getting for Dawn and where he was going to buy it. And how he was going to _pay_ for it…!

"Well, first things first," he muttered to himself. "I need to figure out what to get her. _Then _I can worry about the cost."

And what was he supposed to get her? They hadn't even really defined their relationship yet. They were more than "just friends," but were they "dating"? Probably. He slept there whenever he could; he even had his own drawer at her place! It had been almost two years since they first, well…

Paul's cheeks flared up, and he tried to hide his face under his scarf.

He walked around the city square where his hardware store was located. It wasn't a bad spot: colorful shops lined the streets and there was a little grassy area in the center with a fountain and benches for shoppers to sit and stretch their legs. One of these shops had to have something for Dawn. What would be perfect for her?

Shoes? No, she had good shoes already. Perfume? No, she wasn't really into that (and neither was he). Candles? While useful, he felt a candle didn't exactly say, You're special to me. No matter how good it smelled.

Jewelry? Maybe. Perhaps he could find something cheap and put it on hold? No, no, _not_ cheap. Dawn was worth more than cheap. She was probably one of the best things to ever happen to him. How did a loner like me catch someone so amazing, he asked himself. An amazing girl deserved an equally amazing gift.

The small window sign read _We Buy and Sell Amazing Pieces Just For You! _Amazing, huh? He entered the shop and immediately knew any jewelry here would cost at least twenty or thirty dollars. Before he could leave, however, a salesman caught sight of him.

"Aha! Looking for anything in particular, young man?" he asked. "Perhaps something for a special lady?"

"Yeah, perhaps," he mumbled, knowing that the man would kick him out as soon as he discovered he couldn't afford any of this.

"Well, what does she prefer? Rings, bracelets? Necklaces? Barrettes?" The man pointed to a different display for each item. "We also have a fabulous selection of earrings!"

This was a bad idea. Dawn didn't even wear much jewelry aside from the bracelet he'd bought her for last Christmas. Oh no, he'd forgotten that he got her jewelry last year; he definitely didn't want to do it again… How unthoughtful would that look?

Then his eyes caught sight of the barrettes case. In particular, three gold-colored triangular clips. They would sit perfectly in her long blue tresses.

"Eying the gold, eh?" the man asked, following Paul's eyes. "An excellent choice! They come as a three-piece set for a low price of only forty dollars!" He was already unlocking the case.

"Wait! I mean," Paul stumbled under the look of the salesman, "I mean, I don't know if I have that much on me…"

He made a show of digging through his pockets, pulling out the two pennies and his watch.

"Well now! That's a fine piece," the salesman exclaimed, pulling out a monocle. "Fine craftsmanship, gold rimmed case, intricately-carved hands… Too bad about the strap…"

"Oh well, it was my grandfather's and it doesn't even work anymore," Paul explained, shoving the watch back into his pocket.

The salesman smiled knowingly and pointed to the window sign.

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Dawn traced the pattern of woven green turtles with her finger and sighed.

She wasn't sighing because the turtles were unsatisfactory. Quite the opposite, actually; the turtles were perfectly stitched onto a dark blue stretch of leather. That piece of leather was the perfect Christmas gift for Paul: a replacement band for his grandfather's watch. It could never, of course, replace the original. But at least this way, Paul could fasten it around his wrist safely, rather than keeping it in his pocket where it was sure to fall out.

She sighed again and put the turtles back in their box under her tiny Christmas tree. It was almost eight, and what would Paul do once he came through the door? Would he be upset? Would he be sad or angry? Would he still like her?

For in order to get enough money to buy Paul's twenty-three dollar watch band, Dawn had sold her hair.

Gone. It was gone. Her fingers clung to the chopped ends that tickled her cheeks. Her hair was now probably shorter than his. It had a cute look about it, but Dawn thought she didn't even look like herself anymore. She was worried Paul would too.

Oh, but what a perfect gift she had in exchange! Paul's favorite animal was the turtle, and what luck she'd had finding a watch strap adorned with turtles! He would forget all about her hair once he saw the gift, he had to!

But when she heard the door unlock, Dawn reached back and pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head.

Paul found her sitting next to the Christmas tree, a little box at her feet. She hadn't had time to move and sit elsewhere, so she simply remained where she was. She wanted to do gifts now anyways; she wouldn't able to hide her missing hair for long.

"You look cozy," he said, observing her hoodie. "Any room for me over there?"

"You know for a fact there is."

He sat down and loosened his scarf. Taking sight of the box, he asked, "What's that?"

Dawn tried to hide her flush. "It's your Christmas present!" she replied, glad her voice came out strong. "You can open it now, if you like. Merry Christmas, Paul."

Paul gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and scooped up the box. She held her breath in anticipation as he opened his gift.

When his face didn't light up with joy, Dawn grew worried. "It's for your watch," she explained. He simply stared at it. Did he not like it? "I know it could never replace the old one, but I thought, maybe…" Her voice trailed off as she watched his expression; it was something she could not read. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments she had been prepared for. It was an expression she had never seen before.

"Please say something," she begged in a quiet voice.

Paul's eyes jumped up to meet hers and his face softened. "It's perfect."

Dawn's face broke out into a wide smile. "I knew it would be! Oh, take out your watch, Paul. I want to see what it looks like!"

He shook his head, a sad smile upon his face. "I… I sold my watch to buy your Christmas present."

Sold… his… watch? Dawn could only stare at the little box he out to her. His prized watch… gone forever?

"But, but," she started to say. But Paul just thrust the white box into her hands and kissed her cheek again.

"It's just a watch," he reminded her, though the shock was still evident in his voice. "Besides, what I got for you was worth it."

"For me?" she repeated, coming out of her thoughts, still upset over her ill-chosen gift. "Oh, Paul, you didn't have to get me anything…"

"I wanted to. Go ahead, open it. Merry Christmas, Dawn."

Determined not to let the whole night go to waste, she put on a smile and tentatively opened the box.

And then she cried.

Inside the box were three beautiful clips. Beautiful golden clips for her missing hair.

"What's wrong, what's wrong?" Paul asked worriedly. "Are you ok? Did I do something wrong? Are you allergic to gold? Don't cry! Really, they're just painted gold! Not that I wouldn't love to buy you real gold of course, but… Dawn, Dawn, do you hate them?"

She had never heard Paul talk in such a nervous voice before. Did he really think she hated them that much? "Of course not," she managed to choke out. "They're… lovely." And lovely they were. She cried harder.

"I'm sure they'll look lovelier still once you—" He reached up and flicked back her hood, "—put them in your… hair…"

She stared at the ground to avoid seeing his reaction.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she apologized, tears running down her face. "I sold my hair to buy your watch band." She couldn't bear to meet his eyes so she kept her face downward.

His fingers laced through her messy strands, tugging at the hairs. Then his thumb brushed her cheek and wiped away several tears. Her sobs quieted and she finally looked at him with puffy red eyes.

"You're beautiful," was all he said. And really, that was all she needed to hear.

Then she was kissing him. On her lips she put all her unspoken words, all her worries about her hair and his watch. Her hair would grow again and maybe they could purchase his watch back, but this… _this_. His lips on hers, melted against each other, _this_ was so much better than any of that. He was all she really wanted.

Paul pulled away suddenly, laughing. "What fools we are, look at us. Look at these useless gifts we got each other." But he was smiling, playing with her hair again. "I can't believe you would sell your hair for me… Why would you do that?"

The words came out before she really even thought about them.

"Because I love you."

His smile disappeared in surprise, and he stared at her as if he'd never seen her before. "You… do?"

Dawn smiled. She hadn't realized it before, but she knew in her heart that she did. She was in love. And even if he couldn't say it back to her, she didn't care.

"Most ardently," she assured.

"Oh… well, _good_. Because I love you too."

Many long, passionate kisses followed these words. And this time, Dawn didn't care where Paul discarded his wet clothes.

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_It is not the gift, but the thought that counts._

_-Henry Van Dyke_

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Just a little short fluffy Christmas piece. I already have one story where Paul is changing, so I decided to go the opposite way here and start with Paul already somewhat docile (haha).

No, I'm not dead. Yes, I'm still writing. But no, I can't update as frequently.

I'm still working on my other stories. I will try to update _Something There_ next. However, I can't promise a time frame considering I work over 40 hours a week and have little time to write. Somehow my muse was strong with this story, and it kept me writing through the night (which honestly I shouldn't be doing; I have to be up in 4 hours, so there may be some typos).

Merry Christmas.

(and no, I still don't own Pokemon. or, for that matter, _Gift of the Magi_)

cover art from tumblr, original source?

_Now click the button and leave me a review? :3_


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